


Here, There Be Dragons

by MS_Lawliet



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek Hale, Alternate Universe - Game of Thrones Fusion, Derek as Khal Drogo, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Past Abuse, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, Stiles Stilinski-centric, Theo as Viserys, stiles as daenerys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:48:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22126630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MS_Lawliet/pseuds/MS_Lawliet
Summary: “May I present to you my honored guests -  Theo of House Stilinski, the Third in His Name, Rightful King of the Andals and the True Heir to the Iron Throne and his younger brother, Stiles!”The alpha uttered not a word, his gaze staying true to Deaton until it wasn’t. It was heat, promise, and everything Stiles didn’t want directed at him by a complete and utter stranger but he didn’t force his gaze away - he be too proud for that.---“Wait- where is he going?!” Theo called out urgently.“The ceremony is over.”“But he - but he didn’t say anything! Did he like Stiles?”“Trust me Your Grace, if Alpha Hale did not like his gift, we would surely be notified.”
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 12
Kudos: 326





	Here, There Be Dragons

**Author's Note:**

> Hey again! Coming out of the woodworks is much more difficult than I thought but I did! Hopefully, you guys like it. 
> 
> General notes: Vasarys is just a gender-inclusive term to describe a person who is married to the leader of any given group of my 'verse. If you see it in other fics in the future, at least you know why. 
> 
> There are also implied/references incestuous past actions from Theo to Stiles so if that is a dealbreaker, I would not recommend reading. It is not overt, but still. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

He was  _ seriously  _ ready to fight the sun. 

The sun was unrelenting as it has been most days, unapologetically bright and so high in the sky, he wondered if he could touch it if he jumped high enough. Probably to punch it in another direction but that wouldn’t even work and he would end up with a burnt hand. 

Or without a hand at all. 

But he couldn’t move from his position. He  _ had  _ to be stationed where he was - next to the open window, staring out with perceived melancholy. The maid hasn’t even bothered him since breakfast but then again, they were preparing the absurdly large bath as if it was a pool. Privilege is stupid. He can take three-hour-long baths and gorge himself on food while others just starve and be dirty not fifty feet away? It’s better to have and not need but why not give some resources to those  _ who don’t have _ ? Was that something his father said to him once? Probably was - John was always a servant of the people. Caring, thoughtful, a bit of a hardass but once you get past that, you realize what an amazing father that man was - 

His heart throbbed. Time to stop thinking about his father. Dead means no longer Head of the House. John is not the Head of the House. 

John wouldn’t stand for this if he was. 

One of the servants called him. She wouldn’t touch him though. Her hands would get cut off. He kept his gaze steady at the desert ahead, welcoming the breeze as it came. A finger fiddled with the drapes and he didn’t even notice. Was he nervous? 

_ What material was this?  _

The same servant called again with a more urgent tone. She still dare not touch. That is an automatic fifty lashes from the sadist. Ah, the bath needs to cool down so she wants him to eat. When  _ was  _ the last time he ate? He could really go for some lemon cakes. Then throw it all up because he is a bit too nervous to keep food down. And that’s like, a waste of good sweets. Honey squares are easier to keep down though. Honey square is a weird name for a  _ cake  _ that is made like mounds. Wouldn’t the correct term be like, honey  _ mounds  _ or something? Ah, that’s smart. 

So his whole hand is fiddling with the drapes now, gently swaying them to and fro.  _ Was  _ he nervous? Usually the indicator would be his wanting to crack his knuckles but instead he is playing with drapes. Very soft drapes. Drapes that definitely aren’t protecting him from the sun. 

Wasn’t he supposed to fight the sun? He can’t remember. 

He hasn’t heard her voice in a while. It’s probably bad that he didn’t care enough to wonder why. She was still in the room though. He has this thing where he was hyper-aware of all presences ever created  _ ever  _ causing him to be alert damn near all the time. It most likely started about a year and a half when John was no longer Head of the House. John was a protector so he never had to worry about - 

Don’t think about John. 

The wind picked up quite the amount of sand and moved it. Playing in the sand would be fun. He would bet that on the Old Gods  _ and  _ the New. The texture seems awfully arid because of the dry weather but if enough water was added, shapes could be made. Like castles and stars. If the sun didn’t dry it up first. 

How long has he been standing there? The servants whisper the words  _ anxious  _ and  _ unfair  _ amongst each other. Which may or may not be true. 

Unfair is a subjective experience after all. Theo taught him that. 

“Stiles!” 

He didn’t turn around. Looking out onto the gardens and the sand that was conveniently nearby instead of dealing with a douche who loved to ruin his good mood was easier on his psyche. 

“Where are you?- Stiles! Sti-  _ There  _ you are.”

He forced his hands to let go off of the drapes and mentally swallowed the rage that surged. He made sure to turn slowly and demure. Theo liked that best. Eyes kept to the floor in an angle Theo would enjoy. Theo’s wide smile holding a pastel fabric in his arms made Stiles feel infinitely worse. 

_ I hate you.  _ “Theo.”

“There’s our mate-to-be. What are you doing so far over there? Come here.” 

He found himself walking around the bath towards Theo, every weighing step in his sandals reminding him to hold his tongue.

“Look at what Master Deaton had gotten prepared for you. Imported all the way from Quarth - the silk is heavenly to the touch. Go on. Feel it.”

A slow, tentative touch.

“All handmade from the finest of crochet-maidens.”

He lifted his gaze towards Theo’s own. The rage surged again at the pure giddiness in Theo’s eyes. It didn’t show though. Theo’s smile faltered at his static expression. 

“It was a gift. For you.” Theo explained slowly. “All for you to look beautiful when you marry that wolf. Why aren’t you happy about this?”

Patronizing Theo voice meant soft, demure Stiles. Bastard. “We have been his guest for over a year and he has asked for nothing in return.” 

A smirk played on Theo’s lip. Good. This easily smirking Theo meant the crisis has been avoided. “My silly little brother.” Theo leaned closer. “Deaton know better. He knows that once I take the throne, I will repay him for the kindness he had shown me. He should feel honored that he is helping me take back what is rightfully mine. Just like how your duty today is so, so important.” 

Theo extended the arm holding the dress, a maid immediately rushed out and handled it with care, scurrying off into another room. “Tell me little brother, why are you not excited?” 

Inquisitive Theo meant careful answers. “I-I feel too young.” 

A deep chuckle. Not good but good enough. “Nonsense, silly brother.” Theo languidly turned towards the window, the high sun still high. 

“Look at how high the sun is,” came a low voice to his ear, “did you know that when you were born, the sun was just as high for the season? This is the  _ twenty-second  _ t ime since you were born that this season is passing.” 

Two hands gripped the two knots that held his dress in place. Soon, they were unraveled, his body left exposed to Theo as the dress pooled around his feet. He mentally shivered at Theo’s deep inhale at the nape of his neck. The man’s hand traveled quite a bit, settling on hips. “You are already so grown now,” a voice seeping into the side of the neck whispered. Theo brought his butt against his crotch for a moment. If it didn’t happen so often, he probably would’ve felt something. 

Theo stood straight. “Do take your time to bathe. I don’t want that wolf to find a single dirty spot on you.” A squeeze and Theo was gone. 

Stiles never felt the hands on his hip leave though. 

A foot stepped out of the dress, the other found its way on the bath step. 

“Ah! Your Grace, the bathwater is still too hot!” 

_ Those hands were still there.  _

What is unfair to one reaps a great joy in many.

“Your Grace!” 

Ah, the sand was moved again. 

* * *

Clouds covered the sun this time. Stiles could clearly see Deaton conversing with some other men with a laughing gesture. Because selling a young boy for marriage so his brother can take a stupid chair is  _ hilarious.  _

Ah, Deaton looked his way and nodded. He would’ve given one back if Theo hadn’t just stepped in his way. 

“For once, you look rather presentable. Deaton was right to get this dress for you. It would look better on a woman but that wolf doesn’t care about your maleness no more than I do.” Theo messed with his sleeves and impatiently walked off towards Deaton. “Deaton. Why hasn’t the ceremony started yet? “ 

“The ceremony can only start when the wolf arrives, Your Grace.“ 

“And just  _ when _ will that wolf arrive?” 

“You must not be so impatient Your Grace. Lycans have the propensity to arrive when the time suits them. Alpha Hale will arrive soon.” 

“He better,” Theo muttered before going directly in front of Stiles and an out of place tender expression that looked too much like John.  _ Dad.  _ “You look bothered, Genim. What is troubling you so?” 

He shouldn’t have fallen for it - he be too smart for that. He didn’t see Theo in that moment, he saw John and his genuine concern. His mouth spoke before he thought words. A forfeit in Theo’s games. “I do not wish to be a bride - I just want to go home.” 

Theo’s face hardened. “And how do you suppose we do that?” 

His breathing pattern stopped to swallow the lump in his throat. “I -” 

“Everyone thinks we fell with John that year and a half ago. Do you honestly think they won’t kill us if they see us unprotected?” 

“I -” 

He allowed Theo to lift his head with deceptive kindness. “The whole point of this is so that I can take us home. You not trusting the process makes me angry. “    
  
“Theo -” 

His grip grew forceful. “You do not want to incur the wrath of the Dragon now do you?” 

Stiles placed his gaze low and bit his tongue.  _ John is no longer Head of the House.  _ “No.”

The grip turned into a gentle caress, an easy smile on Theo’s face once again. “Dear brother.” Stiles looked up. “It is all too easy on your part. All you need to do is act beautiful. I would let Alpha Hale and his thousands of wolves fuck you if it would guarantee me the Throne.” An awkward afterthought kiss was placed on his forehead. 

He should’ve killed Theo when he had the chance. 

“Look alive your Grace - there goes the alpha.” 

There were no howls or heavy footsteps as Stiles might have expected. Theo straightened up behind him, both looking out at the crew that was making way across the clearing from the distant forest. 

One masculine figure walked among four sizeable wolves whose paw steps did not imprint on the ground. There was an air of regality to them, concise moves in tandem. 

“Ahh! Alpha Hale - thank you for coming. I am very grateful to welcome you to Pentos.” 

Deaton made a grand gesture. “May I present to you my honored guests - Theo of House Stilinski, the Third in His Name, Rightful King of the Andals and the True Heir to the Iron Throne and his younger brother, Stiles!” 

The alpha uttered not a word, his gaze staying true to Deaton until it was not. It was heat, promise, and everything Stiles did not want directed at him by a complete and utter stranger but he did not force his gaze away - he be too proud for that. 

He felt compelled to step towards the alpha and he would’ve if Theo didn’t grab him to keep still. Maybe it was the mystery that he would regret exploring or maybe it was the idea that he was being sold off to wolves that could kill him without a second thought. 

With a subtle flick of the alpha’s head, the biggest of the sizeable wolves - sleek midnight fur that looked clean - stepped with intention towards him. He wasn’t fearful in that moment though, maybe because his brother quickly stepped away the closer the wolf came. 

Funny. To see Theo be afraid of something. 

The wolf sniffed near his feet, inching further up his thighs. His breath came shorter as the dress was touched but he was stone-faced. Straight gaze at the alpha. Maybe if he just continued staring, his body would go numb. The sun was out again. 

_ Why was it so hot?  _

The wolf took an audible deep sniff before quietly backing away towards the alpha. The alpha broke his gaze to see the wolf bow his head once. All eyes were on the alpha. He gave a steady look towards Deaton. 

Then walked back. Ear breaking howls erupted. 

The wolves became excited, tails wagging, excited paws rustling into the ground. Alpha kept his level stride towards the distant forest, exuding a strength of someone who’s never bowed to anyone. 

He probably never did have to bow to anyone.  _ A privilege.  _

The wolves started sprinting towards the forest, racing forwards without their leader which he would’ve regarded as strange if he wasn’t trying to resist the urge of wiping the parts of his legs that the wolf’s wet nose touched. 

Theo raced past him with mild panic towards the dirt road, looking at the alpha who disappeared into the forest. 

“Wait - where is he going?!” Theo called out urgently. 

“The ceremony is over.” 

“But he - but he didn’t say anything! Did he like Stiles?” 

“Trust me Your Grace, if Alpha Hale did not like his gift, we would  _ surely _ be notified.” 

Huh. He liked Stiles. 

“He even has Stiles sniffed to make sure he can fully appreciate his gift.” Deaton supplied. 

“And what does that mean?” 

A laugh cut in from Deaton’s group of men. But Stiles knew. 

_ Fertility.  _

* * *

The sun decided to be considerably less hot this time around and he was considerably less grateful for it. At least a hot sun would’ve given him something to focus on and have an internal monologue about - the constant heat warming his skin and raising his temperature. He has a love-hate relationship with the sun, see. And it’s like the sun was like that one friend that always just loved a lot too much at once and you get creeped out by it but won’t do anything because that friend can kill you. Not that Stiles would know. Stiles doesn’t have any friends. 

_ Your position doesn’t need friends.  _ Theo once told him.  _ You exist to be loyal to the Head of the House.  _

And he was loyal to John. He stayed very loyal to his father. John is the type of Head everyone wanted to follow. Understanding, fair - sure a harsh call here and there but he is a good man who leads well. 

Led. He  _ was  _ a good man who  _ led  _ well. John is no longer the Head of the House. Theo is. Stiles exist to be loyal to Theo. 

Theo would die a thousand deaths by his hand before he would ever be voluntarily loyal. 

Yet here he was - standing in a rather large hut, skin crawling at the feeling of Theo’s gaze in the corner. The women fixing his dressing and preparing his jewelry did not say their names and they didn’t ask for his, only referring to him in the third person as  _ Vasarys.  _ This dress for the wedding was lighter and had much more flow than the dress he wore two days prior. It was an even lighter purple this time, sleeveless, and held a train. The women appeared to be the same age as him but he knew lycans do not age nearly as quickly as humans do. 

Now he would get to witness this process first hand. 

The woman with the red hair gently lifted his chin and allowed her jade eyes highlighted by the fine eyeliner to study his features. He thought of her face to be fundamentally beautiful, lips decorated with sultry crimson. Her face turned perplexed. “Do you speak the common tongue Vasarys?” 

“He does. Though he does not speak much so many find him to be slow and a little daft. Which may or may not be true.” 

The other woman, sunflower hair framing yet another beautiful face that landed on the narrower side, looked up from her work of creating delicate designs on his forearm. She smirked at Theo and laughed with the red woman. “Are you his speaker?” She shot at him. 

“He is mine to speak for.” Theo shot back. 

The red woman huffed a laugh before heading towards a table with marking decoration paste on it. “The Vasarys shall speak for himself.” 

Stiles subtly looked at Theo and wow- he did not take to this well. Theo glared at the red woman’s back, the length of her wavy hair covering the crop top but not her matching shorts. He didn’t like it at all. Irritated turned mad Theo meant pain for him when the moon is high. Pain when the moon was high - 

“Stiles is my brother.” Theo gritted out.    


“And now he is our Vasarys.” 

Theo stepped forward. “Well he was  _ my  _ brother before he was your  _ anything  _ and as part of House Stilinski -” 

“Your House means little here.” The woman slyly said. “Which means he is no longer yours to speak for. If you wish to speak for someone, speak for your wife.” 

The woman gracefully walked back with the burgundy paste, rubbing the stick in the palette to loosen. He looked at her once again. She slightly tilted her head before placing the cool paste against his skin. He was unsure what exactly she was drawing but it wasn’t his place to understand. It was never his place to understand. 

“Erica, use the red for the highlight.” 

The blonde nodded then placed his arm in an awkward position. “Keep your arm like this to not mess it up, Vasarys.” 

His silence seemed to be enough for a verification so she went to the table Erica searched for the moment. “It’s not here, Lydia.” 

Lydia pursed her lips for a short time. “It may be in Scott’s tent. I don’t remember whether or not he gave it back.” 

Erica sighed through her nose and walked out of the tent with an exaggerated step, yelling for a “Scott” all the while. 

Ah, so the sun was out - the hut was too thick for him to feel it properly. 

“Do you speak the common tongue Vasarys?” 

“Are you daft?” 

Lydia’s amused expression led to more anger from Theo. He doesn’t like it when Theo got angry. The moon will be high. Angry turned angrier Theo meant-

“You want him to be your wife that bad?” 

A slow, heated breath. 

“I’ve heard gossip about your people. Lies have to start with some level of truth, gossip even more.” She resumed painting Stiles’ face. “I’m surprised you even agreed to give him up, the prolific inbreeders that you are - I guess your chair is worth more than ‘keeping the blood pure’ it seems.” 

“And what do you wolves know about ruling over lands?” Theo sneered. “Or blood for that matter.”

“Enough to say that the Vasarys will speak for himself and the feminine people he cares for.” She studied Stiles face, dainty turning it this way and that before guiding his arm back to his side. She smirked in Theo’s direction. “I understand that you are not fond of losing your bed warmer-” 

“You insolent-” 

She moved with a grace Stiles has never seen before. He blinked and she had elongated nails at Theo’s Adam's apple, Theo’s head forced to rise.

The red woman’s smirk grew as her eyes narrowed. “Dragons have no say in a wolf’s land.” 

Strange. Theo stayed silent. Theo never stayed silent. 

“I got Scott and Jackson.” 

Two masculine figures were behind Erica wearing formal attire, one with a crooked jaw and the other with an angered look on his face. 

Were all lycans fundamentally attractive? He won’t quite fit in here. 

Lydia and Theo stared for a moment longer before Lydia broke her stance turning out with a second glance. 

He kind of liked her.

“What is going on? Lyd, you can’t go threatening Sir Theo,” the one with the crooked jaw distressingly said, “he is an important guest.” 

She raised an eyebrow at him. “And I care because…?”

He sighed with a soft suck of his teeth before walking up to Theo. “I apologize Your Grace, for any unpleasantries you may have experienced with Lydia. We will be sure that it will not happen again while you are in our care. The wedding is to start soon - please go with Jackson so he can show you where you are to sit.” 

The other man looked like he wanted to nothing of the sort, glaring intensely before schooling the expression once Scott gestured his way. He was a guard without any visible weapons but Stiles imagined that trained lycans had no use for weapons. 

Lycans  _ are  _ weapons. 

Theo briskly walked out of the tent at Scott’s diplomatic answers, walking past Jackson who simply turned and followed. 

It seems the sky was cloudless. 

“What was that about, Lyd?” 

“Sir douche thought he was the Vasarys’ husband,” Erica answered for her, returning to her position at Stiles’ side, a slender hand picking up his not-as-slender-but-still-kinda-slender hand. The paste was warmer than the previous one used. 

“All I did was respectfully inform him of his place in our land.” 

A blank, patient stare from Scott. 

“And that his precious chair was more important than his incestuous urges.” 

Erica snorted at Scott’s expression. “Let’s hope Derek doesn’t hear about that.” 

“I doubt Derek hasn’t heard.” 

“I very much doubt. That guy is as strong as he is oblivious, my alpha or not - done.” Erica inspected the work once again before setting the hand down. “Be careful not to bump anything until it dries, Vasarys.” 

Stiles nodded once. He kind of hoped his clumsiness doesn’t decide to show up. That would be unfitting for the upcoming moments. 

_ Embarrass me and I will make you feel the wrath of Dragon. You don’t want that now do you, Stiles? _

He never did. 

“How much time until the wedding begins?” Lydia asked. 

“Very soon. Like, should have started already type soon.” 

He did all he could for his survival with Theo as Head. The Dragon within Theo reared its head when it felt like. Angry Theo meant the Dragon would come out when the moon was high. John -

Don’t think about John. Dead men have no place in the thoughts of the living. 

“Ah,” Scott sounded before placing himself in front of Stiles. “Erica, Lydia - please take your places. I will speak to the Vasarys and I will escort him out. Make sure Jackson is outside the tent to escort the Vasarys to his place.” 

An authoritative voice. Erica and Lydia let their excitement be known as they placed the decorative pastes on the table. 

“I apologize for not introducing myself earlier, Vasarys. Wait, do you speak the common tongue?” 

“His incestuous brother can so it’s safe to assume he does as well,” the red woman stated as she strolled away, “even if he doesn’t, he will learn.” 

Then it was quiet. And then there were two. 

Scott’s professional stance turned casual. 

“There is recognition in your eyes when I speak so you do speak with Common tongue, huh. Theo said your muteness must mean that you’re daft but no person with a simple brain would be able to survive living under Theo’s thumb.” Scott shook his head and scratched. A friendlier smile came with two extended hands. Stiles gently his left hand there and  _ oh.  _

The patterns were in a book he read once on lycan sigils. The mark of the Alpha’s mate. A physical expression of the golden cage only to be worn by the mate who exists to be loyal to the Alpha. Now he bore those delicate markings all over his body. From one cage to another. 

Though he isn’t quite sure if he ever left the first one. 

“Either way, my name is Scott even though I’m sure you know that and I will be your head caretaker. My job is basically to make sure that you adjust well and take care of any needs you got.” Scott bowed into the hand and paused before letting go. “Erica and Lydia are your personal women and you will be seeing them a lot. And by a lot, I mean probably every day. Ah come to think of it, you will probably see me and Jackson every day too. Wherever you go, Jackson and I will always be with you for safety purposes.” 

Silence. Though the amiability made Stiles view Scott rather pleasantly. 

The caretaker laughed awkwardly. “It’s okay if you don’t want to speak or anything especially since it’s time to go but it would be kinda cool to know what you want to be called.” 

“Scott let’s go!” Jackson’s voice penetrated the tent. 

“Maybe later, huh?” Professional aura returned with an extended hand once more. “Are you ready, Vasarys?” 

No. No, he wasn’t ready. He will never be ready. He doesn’t want to be ready, he wants to go back to Deaton’s house, back to Westeros, back to his father. 

So he allowed his head caretaker to lead him out of the tent, Jackson taking place at his right-hand side. 

It really was cloudless. 

* * *

It was expected for the alpha to have a full celebration party and Alpha Hale did. After the spiritualwoman blessed with the union sealed with a sweetwater Stiles couldn’t place, Hale led him to their seats. He had a view of all of the guests who danced energetically to the fast rhythm of the drums. 

He accepted the plate of food presented to him by Scott. Hand-picked strawberries and mango slices decorated with spinach. Actually no, Scott handed it to Jackson first who stood tall behind him. Jackson sniffed, eyed it carefully, and passed it to the person standing next to him. Stiles vaguely remembered dark brown skin and masculine but kept his eyes on the crowd. Once Jackson gave it back to Scott, then he accepted the plate. He judged it as finger food so he ate it three fingers being  _ very  _ careful not to get any on his dress. 

For a moment, the thought of ruining the dress with fruit juices almost made him crack composure and laugh. But he didn’t. 

He mentally assessed who was sitting at this version of the grand row. He checked off himself and Hale-  _ Derek, _ he internally snickered. He never gave any thought of what the alpha’s given name could be, but Derek was such a  _ human  _ name he couldn’t help but find it funny. 

Heh. Derek. 

Anyway, right next to him or rather who was supposed to be right next to him was Scott with Lydia and Erica seated a step lower. He wasn’t entirely sure of the people on Derek’s side other than Deaton and his brother seated on the comfortable large chairs. Theo seemed interested in what he probably thought was the depravity of the crowd. Screaming, singing, dancing, gyrating- 

_ “Ah!”  _ And apparently moaning. Cue the blush. 

He wasn’t sure what happened but two wolves got into it. Like,  _ really  _ into it. One masculine lycan was brutally penetrating a feminine lycan to which another masculine lycan pushed the other off and started fighting? One harsh shove, one solid punch, one  _ even more  _ solid punch and the two were off. 

And everyone got really excited by that. 

The crowd gathered around the fight, grunting and yelling, chanting for both wolves to tear each other apart. Granted, this sort of thing wasn’t his scene  _ per se -  _

It was certainly Derek’s scene though. 

Derek seemed like the type of guy who didn’t physically show a lot of emotions but his face was certainly  _ alive.  _ Eyes squinted and a hint of a smile as he grabbed his drink to this event. The sun shone on him favorably, accentuating his olive skin and short brown hair. He was covered in decorative markings, a black base with burgundy highlights though his were simpler in design. He had two identical black stripes that went along his cheekbone. Stiles wondered what that meant. To signify who is the dominant of the relationship? 

Probably. 

The fight came to a head when one picked up the other and ripped his throat out. And bit into it with ravenous greed. His stomach churned. 

“Don’t worry Vasarys,” Scott whispered from behind him and he applauded his self-control for not jumping out of instinct, “this is completely normal. A lycan wedding without a fight to the death with the defeated being cannibalized would be considered a dull affair.” He really did enjoy the amiability from the amused voice. 

He stiffened.  _ The victim.  _

His eyes swiftly search for them - he shouldn’t have been caught up in the violence - 

“Worried about the girl?” 

It would be  _ really  _ awkward if Scott could read his mind. 

“Erica and Lydia are tending to her at the moment. You will be able to look at her before you would have to leave.” Scott stood straight. “Oh my.” 

The winner presented the remains of the throat of him and Derek, a victorious grin bloodied and skewed. They nodded once at the alpha who nodded approvingly in return. 

The music and dance continued. 

“Complete and utter savages.” 

It bothered at times that he will always be able to attune Theo’s voice no matter the noise level. 

Scott appeared before him and Derek - _ when did Scott leave from behind him-  _ careful with the leather box in his hand, making a grand show of paying respect. “My alpha and dear Vasarys, I hope that you are enjoying the festivities. My sincere apologies for disturbing you both. Vasarys, a gift has arrived for you. Dannys from House Mahealani offers his deepest apologies for missing the celebration because of business.” He gently placed the box on Stiles’ lap and  _ gracious.  _

Three eggs laid uniformly on plush burgundy paper. Highly textured and murky colors, it reminded him of the tales his father whispered to him before he closed his eyes, tales filled with wondrous fire, bright skies, and a power greater than any human army. 

_ “Dragons.”  _

He didn’t mean to say out loud and apparently no one else did either based on Scott’s momentarily surprised look. It really wasn’t much above a whisper that the breeze swept away at will. He touched one egg, time dedicated to making it such a beautiful fossil. Zygotes that will never mature - a remnant of greatness that hasn’t explored the skies in over two centuries. 

“Lord Dannys was unclear as to where he got them from but was insistent in his intent in letting you have it, Vasarys. Time has withered the eggs’ age and forced them to become fossils but the beauty of it remains to be timeless.” 

Stiles definitely agreed. He glanced at Derek who gazed intently at the eggs but didn’t say anything. Figured. 

“I’m glad you find the gift favorable, Vasarys.” Scott said softly, prying the case from Stiles’ lap with delicate fingers. He missed it already. “I’ll be sure to keep the gift in your tent close to your bedside. For now, it is almost time to go.” 

The ground underneath him swallowed him whole. 

_ When did the music die? _

Many came directly before him and Derek to pay respect and offering blessings - well actually he was confused as to what most people were doing. Chest thumping and guttural noises were all he could understand. 

The alpha got up before him and not sure whether to follow. He didn’t. 

That back is  _ quite  _ nice. 

Ah, sun setting was at its peak. 

He watched over the crowd once again. His people now. 

“Vasarys.” He wondered if anyone would ever call him Stiles. 

Scott offered his hand and Stiles knew he was supposed to take that hand so he did. Lydia fluffed out his dress, the bottom wrinkled from the constant sitting. She checked out the markings on his arms and face, once again turning it this way and that. 

“The girl is relatively unharmed,” she said once she was done with her inspection, “I will stay with her. She did not want to ruin your night so you will be able to see her tomorrow. Have a fruitful night.” She mildly waved her head and continued towards the girl - wherever she was. 

_ Fruitful.  _ The ground is suffocating him with its dirt.

Scott led him and the lycans parted, taking his energy and appearance in full. He wondered what they expected of him - was he to be the kind to the alpha’s harsh? Probably. 

Why weren’t there any clouds in the sky? He needed rain to drown them all, never to return to the lands of the living. Fickle rain. 

The alpha stood in the distance, prowess and built to kill. One of the finest killers alive in fact. Theo once said it. His markings proved it. 

He gathered a breath that wasn’t fully there. The lump in the chest was too big. Even the excited smile that passed his way didn’t help. 

“Are you ready, Vasarys?” 

_ No-  _

A familiar warm hand that found his right shoulder was deceptive in its gentleness. He could smell the expensive body fragrance from here. 

“Make him happy.” Theo offhandedly said. 

He will not cry. 

He made his way to Derek. Derek was even more built up close. 

A frozen kiss on the forehead. Strange. Probably for show. 

_ Don’t cry.  _

“May the night be fruitful to you both.” Deaton smiled diplomatically. 

The familiar flow of nasal fluid threatened to leave his nose.

* * *

There was this place in his old house he used to frequent when he wanted to be alone - life without his father always felt lonely. Theo wouldn’t admit to it but he was also very lonely so he focused on Stiles. Well, he always focused on Stiles even when John was alive.  _ Why else would he- _

Theo and Derek were different in a lot of ways. 

Whereas his brother never stopped his brutal onslaught of violent words Derek didn’t speak much during the hour of their walking. The dirt felt pliable under his sandals. 

_ Sniffle.  _ Do not cry. 

Every step caused his eyes to well up with tears but Derek didn’t like to see that. When tears ran without his permission, Derek would simply drag his hands across his face to wipe it away, brooding face even more brooding. Theo never did that.

Theo liked it when he cried. It was encouragement. 

He wondered what would encourage Derek. 

Lycans are said to be violent so maybe blood? Broken bones? Flesh ripped apart? 

The tree was a giant. It was as tall as it was expansive, a solid thick trunk with branches and leaves that stretched farther than his eyes can see. It blocked the stark moon and possible stars - a blanket to the act of the alpha and his mate. 

Theo wasn’t skinny by any sense but he wasn’t near Derek. It was like the man was pure muscles and attentive to his surroundings, ready to kill anything that would ruin this moment. 

An annoyed grunt. Callous hand once again swiping over his face. “Stop crying.” 

Tears just kept on going. 

He wished he could gaze at the full moon from where he was lying. 

Actually, Theo and Derek were more similar than they were different. 

Derek may have been bigger but Theo got on top of him like this too. Derek’s hands were just as deliberate as Theo’s. The salty water getting in his ears. No speaking. No pleading. No wailing. 

“Be gentle,” left his mouth on instinct. It never did much. Theo- Derek wouldn’t be gentle. 

_ Where did his dress go?  _

Derek didn’t have any clothes either. So it was okay. Theo kept his clothes on in case he wanted to leave afterward. That kinda made them different. 

But both spread his legs like this too. Both liked to settle there it seems. 

“I want an heir.” 

Theo said that too. 

Pain. He knows this pain. It amplified the longer The- Derek stayed between his legs. But he quickly adapted. Theo made him bear this pain for years. Bear it. Bear it or lose your mind. 

He liked his mind more than his body. His body was stained with hands that never left and sweat that never washed off. Worthless, dirty, _ used-  _

What would Derek say if he found out about Theo’s permanent mark on his insides? Alphas are territorial right? 

He even grunted like Theo except the cadence implied he wasn’t enjoying himself as Theo would’ve. 

A hand wrapped around his throat to give a better rhythm. He could still breathe though. 

A deep, violent thrust forced a desperate wail from his chest. 

Huh. That excited the alpha. 

It wasn’t night anymore. The forest and Derek went away. It was the reading room. John loved orange walls. It complimented the dragon sigil well. 

There was John. It made him laugh. His father was the type to not hear his surroundings when he focused on work. Stiles never had to worry about House business. He was like his mom that way - always told to just be pretty and wanted to learn about the world instead. 

His dad was calling him over. Why wouldn’t he have gone. He loved his father. 

_ “Dad.”  _

_ “There is nothing to fear, Genim. I am always with you.”  _

Theo can’t hurt him. Derek can’t hurt him. His father was all that was kindness and love. He made Stiles feel only kindness and love. 

Even from outside the cage. 

“ _ Sleep.”  _

Somewhere back in his body on the tree stump, a new stain was permanently marked. 

“You’re awake.” 

He was. In a nice, comfy bed. No pain. Huh. 

“If you’re wondering about the pain, I siphoned it out of you - Derek didn’t want you to experience any pain.” 

Huh. 

Scott helped him up. “Easy - you don’t want to mess up your hand.”

He was not in the right mind to address that so later. 

Lights from candles in an otherwise dark room. Scott sat on the floor right beside him, hair a lot more shaggy than when he last saw him. He reached next to him and presented a water pouch to which he gratefully drank from. 

“Jeez man, slow down. If you need more water, I’ll go out and get some.” 

His throat felt much better. “How long was I out?” 

“Quite a bit. I asked Derek if I should wake you up but he was all about letting you sleep and recovering. How are you feeling, Vasarys?” 

He wasn’t quite sure. “Where is my brother?” 

Scott cringed for a moment. 

He didn’t mean to snort at that. The other just made him happy at random - he also wasn’t quite sure if that was an actual thing. “It’s okay to speak honestly. I won’t think little of you.” 

“Little of you. I’m not the language teacher man - you don’t have to speak so properly with me in private. I’m pretty harmless - well, mostly harmless but entirely harmless to you.” 

That warranted a smile and Scott’s own became decidedly less nervous. Then a friendly laugh. Small but enough. 

“Where’s my brother?” 

The cringe look came back. “Deaton’s men took him back to Pentos for a business trip. Theo was...less than happy when he couldn't see you during the day. To be honest, Jackson and I don’t plan on letting him around you. Derek’s orders.”

“Did he threaten you?” 

“He waited fifteen minutes before deciding the ‘Dragon shouldn’t have to wait this long’ and threatened me and Jackson for not bringing you to him. Pretty sure we were called savages but I don’t know. Are you hungry?” 

Theo must truly be scared then. He finished the pouch. It didn’t really click what to do with it afterward so he set it down on his lap which was covered by a white blanket. “Not really.” 

“I don’t think Derek will let that slide. If you’ve conceived yet, he’ll probably make you eat a lot of food. Ah - now that I think about it, Deaton should be on his way to check on that now. I’ll go tell Jackson to get him.” 

He prepared for this. There was an end goal and he was always the payment. House Stilinski on the Iron Throne with the help of the most powerful pack in the world in exchange for an alpha to have a safe womb to put his child. He would be impregnated, carry the baby to term, rinse and repeat until the alpha was satisfied. He knew this. This was Theo’s plan.  _ Act beautiful.  _

_ Make him happy. _

He doesn’t want a chair, he wanted his father  _ don’t think about John.  _

Did he even have a uterus? Would it be created? He has always read books that spoke of the Old Gods and the power they granted their supernatural creatures. He didn’t put it above any of them to use the magic to make whatever is desired. Like a baby. 

“Stiles.” Deaton greeted. “How are you feeling?” 

“He told me he was feeling a little tired and hungry but overall okay. He doesn’t believe he has conceived from last night.” Scott piped in. 

No need to confirm or deny that. 

Deaton set down his dark bag onto the grand and pulled out leaves connected by a central brown stem. “Scott get some more water - he looks a bit dehydrated.” He sniffed the plant himself before gesturing towards Stiles’ own. 

A soft, silent sniff. Sweet. 

“Sweet?” 

A nod. 

The doctor refused to speak until Scott gave him more water which  _ yes. _ His throat was closing up. No point in choking up when this was expected. 

“Tell Alpha Hale the Vasarys has yet to conceive but is still very fertile so there is time.” Scott agreed and just like that, Deaton packed up. 

“I will be back in three days’ time to check again. Make sure he eats. I hope by then I will be able to give Alpha Hale better results.” 

That wasn’t a request. Right. 

“If you need me, I will be near the edge of the forest to collect more ingredients. Be well, the two of you.” 

So it seems there were clouds in the sky this time - he wasn’t too sure. Maybe he will find out later. 

Actually, he found out sooner than he expected because Scott decided to urge him to go outside and see some of the territory. The lycans seem to all be in human forms - working, playing, chatting, eating. Tents and sturdy huts methodically placed stretched further than he could’ve seen. His companion spoke of the different roles he will possess in his new home - the caring and gentle touch he was supposed to represent. He would spend most of his time with the feminine people of the pack, blessing children and the elderly, and encouraging the heir that he will carry to be strong and he couldn’t pay attention after that part. 

He was stable enough to pay attention to his hand and -

_ The mark of the Alpha’s mate.  _

He moved his fingers delicately, not stopping after feeling the slight stings. 

“The girls will help you heal it. Issac does some really good work.” 

It was. And it was on his skin forever.  _ He  _ was stuck here forever. He didn’t entirely mind it. Most of his duties were simple enough - anything was better than Theo. 

“Almost forgot - let’s get you some food. Anything you want? We got a new arrival of fresh fruits and vegetables you can pick from.” 

Scott walked so he walked. Some level of hostility from the residents would have made him feel better but most just greeted and waved as he walked by. After a while, he waved back. One small child got particularly brave and stopped right of him, all tan skin and baby faced. 

“For you, Vasarys!”

It was loud and the pushing of the gift towards him was rather forceful but he was content with it. If Scott let it happen it was fine. Scott also seemed like he was about to collect it on his behalf but no. He kneeled down to the child’s level, dress rubbing into the dirt. Oh well. 

His smile felt a little awkward. “These are for me?” 

Wide-eyed, the child nodded and gestured it again with relatively less force. 

“Vasarys -” 

“It is alright, Scott.” It was silly to have this but he needed to have this. He chose to listen to this child, he chose to kneel down, and he  _ chose  _ to accept whatever scrunched up gift the little one decided to give. “May I see it?” 

Shyness took place of the bravado the child displayed as they opened the hand. 

A single white gardenia and the purest daffodil. Scrunched and slightly wilted. His heart cried. 

His back felt a bit cooler. 

“Thank you, sweet child,” he said calmly as he held the two flowers with care, “I will take care of this beautiful gift. May I ask your name?”

The unbridling joy in the tyke’s grin with missing front teeth made his own indulgent. “Neya!” 

He made sure to look impressed. “Strong and courageous name! Make sure to live by it and make your namesake proud, yes?” 

“YES!” 

He almost fell over at the hug he received and he couldn’t recall the last time it felt this innocent. Scott and a few adults protested but he didn’t really care. It quieted once he settled Neya on the side of his hip as he stood straight anyway. The parents were probably close by so he would just keep Neya until one of them is there. 

_ He  _ decided that. 

Ah, clouds covered the sun and he was grateful. The heaviness on his chest didn’t go away but it became easier to bear. 

Maybe there will be joy in this new life. 

* * *

And thus, six fortnights came and went. 

Life within the pack became a steady routine he grew to quite like. 

Scott apparently wasn’t lying as he was almost always with Lydia and Erica from the moment he woke to the moment Derek dismissed them from the tent. And by almost always he really meant  _ always always.  _ The one the almost always could really apply to was Jackson who made no effort to extraneously interact with Stiles more than he needed to and he was just fine with that. The guard always stayed a step in front, a step in back, or right outside any place he was in. Even when Stiles couldn’t see him, Jackson was somewhere nearby. If Jackson wasn’t there for some reason, Boyd was and he made even more of an effort to not interact with Stiles unnecessarily. The two have said like, less than ten words to him combined _.  _

They probably didn’t like him or at the very least didn’t care for him. His people-watching data told him the two stayed very much loyal to Derek and the orders he gives. And he was  _ just fine  _ with that. Being fake in such close proximity makes the air smell foul. 

Lydia and Erica had quick wit and sarcastic humor and once he got used to that, he was able to join in their laughter at times. He wasn’t entirely sure if the change was welcomed but both took to teasing him to wring out smiles so he hoped they liked him too. 

Scott was by far his favorite to spend time and honestly, he dared called Scott his friend before he would say caretaker. Scott always held a relaxing aura whenever they were together and he talked the most when the other was around. There was just something about having one person who wasn’t afraid to talk of silly things and hit him playfully when he said slick things and be willing to sneak him away for an adventure if he wanted. He never asked for it but it was nice to know the option was there. 

His days were filled with learning more about the culture and customs the Hale pack possessed and quickly applying that knowledge to guide his interactions with the feminine people and children he would often see. This history of the pack and their time in this forest was as rich and vast as the history he grew up learning about the ruling families in Westeros. He spoke with the natives, filled with sonder. 

It turned out that the person he wanted to check on during the wedding was actually Neya’s mother and she literally cried when he spoke with her. For the Vasarys to care for a pack member’s well-being became increasingly difficult the bigger the pack got. Maybe it was pride or maybe it was his own upbringing but since then he made sure to identity women those who were mentally or emotionally unwell could go to after he was gone. He read a couple of books on the benefits of having mental wellness people in the population and how to be one. Some of the lessons he gave to those select women were made up on the fly but if they didn’t notice it, it didn’t really happen. 

The more involved he became with the pack the less he saw of Theo. Deaton kept him busy with business trips always under the title of “Kingly matters” and Stiles didn’t look into it. The Gods blessed him with this and he was going to milk this blessing for everything it got. 

He didn’t want to think about Derek. 

Or at least, he didn’t want to think about Derek until one day as Lydia and Erica took it upon themselves to teach him how to crochet. It was a cool day, the clouds consistently covering the sun at most times during the day and he just finished another lesson with his women. They had time before the sun was to set so they remained in what people began to call the  _ Safe Haven -  _ the only tent Alpha Hale could not go into. At first, it was just the empty large hut that he brought his women to for training and it’s just been morphing into a place where only feminine of center people were allowed to be. He wasn’t really interested in changing that. 

He found it kind of funny that  _ Jackson  _ was currently guarding the place because he was inside - he’ll address that later. 

He was in the middle of judging whether or not he was doing a good job because his piece looked  _ nothing  _ like neither of the two women when - 

“So how is the love life, Vasarys?” 

No matter how comfortable he thinks the two have become with him, they never fail to remind him of his title. 

“It is fine.” 

A wily snort from Erica. “Tell the truth.” 

The discouragement at the crochet comparison made him give up. He didn’t want to think about his love life with Derek. 

There wasn’t one to begin with, there was the brutal taking of his body night after night. Derek seldom tried to speak with him and he didn’t have anything to say to the alpha. Stiles would just wait for him to slide under the covers and get between his legs. After a while, Derek preferred he be on his hands and knees. His warmth felt like burns on his skin, never needles. Theo felt like needles. 

The only thing the two had to say to him was that they wanted an heir it seemed. 

“I do not like it.”

Lydia looked at Erica. “Told you it was not going well. When I asked Derek, he looked at me like I was speaking of his father.” 

“That is Derek language for emergency - he just doesn't know how to ask.” 

Erica placed her own crochet down and opened the jar of healing paste by her. He knew to put his hand out - she seemed to be obsessed with making sure it always looked bright and fresh even though the tattoo was already bright, fresh, and completely healed.

“Such a beautiful design - Isaac can be the best sometimes when he is not being a child. What do you not like about it, Vasarys?” 

These women are Derek’s pack. Not his. “He is too quiet.” 

Lydia grew much closer than he expected. An intimate type close. The only person he ever willingly allowed to be there was someone he can’t think about. She placed a warm hand on his and - “You do know whatever we speak of, unless it would harm the pack or Derek, remains here right?”

Playful tone with no playful words. The sentiment was there and that was enough. 

He hugged himself momentarily - one day he’ll break this habit. Which would be kind of hard because it felt so comforting. Wow. His skin was running hot. Was he sick? That would literally make no sense since all Scott allows him to eat are fruits and vegetables with the occasional chicken. Rabbit was too fattening and apparently not good for fertility. 

“He has not made an effort to know you?” Erica questioned. That’s definitely not what she was asking. 

“It is painful.” 

Comfort like this felt weird. Like, really weird. It was nice. Even if the air was heavy.

Lydia caressed his cheek before facing him towards herself and Erica. Her eyes held understanding with undertones of optimism. “It must be unpleasant. Derek is complicated in that way but know that he favors you - he very much does.” 

_ How?  _

“Do not give me that face.” She chided though she smiled. “He really does. If he did not, he would not have agreed to your hand to begin with.” 

“I bet he told the boys not to speak of it.”

“I bet Scott slipped up a couple of times.” 

“Actually, I’ll bet that too.” Erica stood to stretch. “I’m not sure as to  _ why  _ Scott is his advisor since the guy can’t lie to save his life but whatever - that’s not the point.” 

Breathing came easier watching the two banter. 

“I will be truthful, Vasarys - the alpha you are mated to is actually quite misunderstood. He is one of those people you have to watch for actions rather than words. Derek will not give you words. And he has been pressured more than once by the elders to make sure he has an heir. And so,” Erica lilted as she lifted him up his feet, dragging him towards the soft cushions, Lydia on their trail. “He will not stop until you are pregnant. It’s been six fortnights already and you have not conceived. I think it is because  _ you  _ are not enjoying it.” 

What? 

“It is true,” Lydia was awfully close right now behind him, “there is a saying that children must only be raised out of love or else that child cannot grow. That starts from conception. We can not stop Derek from bedding you but we  _ can  _ advise on how to ensure you enjoy it.” 

Whoa. Whoa.  _ Whoa whoa whoa whoa -  _

Someone is on top of him. There is a  _ woman _ on top of him. Erica is on top of him, facing him and while he wasn’t entirely sure whether or not he found women attractive to begin with, his cheeks were on fire. 

“Get on top of him like this, Vasarys,” Erica said lowly as she grinded ever steadily and  _ what.  _ “This position allows for more control over the pace.” 

He is about to pass out. 

“If he asks why or seems like he is going to protest, just tell him you want to look upon his face - it is more intimate that way. He will be weak for that.” 

Lydia virtually in his ear is not helping in the slightest. 

This is really awkward. For him and his penis that softly twitched at the stimulation. He saw what they were saying but this was weird. These women were weird. But he knew them enough. 

They cared. 

* * *

He wasn’t nervous. Except he was entirely nervous. 

No. He wasn’t nervous. The strawberries were sour and his stomach was hating him for it. He just needed something to do with his hands. Read. He needed to read. He was so not nervous he was going to take the books off of its’ resting place and read it leisurely. This book talked of geography. It was good for him to know the geography of the terrain. Being ignorant of places was unbecoming. He liked the word unbecoming. When he first saw the word, he thought it meant to be a reverse in time and that was actually quite the concept - 

He was  _ nervous.  _

He set the book down where it belonged. This was unbecoming. It wasn’t like he was a virgin, offering himself to the man of his dreams - he couldn’t remember the age he lost his virginity. Derek probably didn’t know. Theo wouldn’t tell him. It’s not like there is any proof. Evidence was all hearsay. 

It’s a comfortable truth he can live with. 

The shouts of deep voices giving the alpha farewells right outside the tent brought him back. Derek was there. His stare always made him uncomfortable. Tense and planning to blow off some steam. 

The alpha marched towards him, grabbing at his arms, forcing Stiles’ body to obey his will. It was almost a whisper - weak and raspy. “No.” 

Derek froze - perplexed behind his scowl and resumed his movement with rigor. His heart was running a marathon and he can’t do this but he will do this.  _ “No.”  _ His back screamed at this angle. “I would like to stare at your face tonight.” 

Maybe it was the declaration or the soft-spoken way he said but Derek stopped in interest. 

Now was his chance. 

He gently pushed broad shoulders back on the bed, allowing the alpha to fix himself to lie down completely. He couldn’t quite do this as himself so he thought of himself as Erica and climbed on top. 

Derek’s hazel-green was just so nice to look at. 

He placed the other’s hands on his thighs, letting his own roam the chiseled body. It was slow, the alpha getting the hint to knead his thighs and butt, the callous fingertips awakening his nerves. He didn’t know he could even  _ feel  _ this. Derek sat up and he tensed but it was only to look at each other closely. 

_ Oh.  _

Derek’s  _ everything _ was nicer closeup. 

They fell into a kiss, the first they shared since their marriage. Hands intensified in their roaming the longer they kissed, clothes disappearing somewhere in the process. He surprised himself at the sound of his moaning. When they broke apart, Derek half-smiled in arousal. 

The alpha was getting up. So was he. 

“Is this okay?” Stiles said against his mate’s lips. 

Derek’s smile only got wider and he returned to kissing with vigor. 

As they grinded, he found that he enjoyed it all. 

Maybe. Just maybe. 

* * *

The Vasarys seems to be doing well. 

To be truthful, he was hesitant. Theo rubbed him the wrong way. When he first appeared in front of the alpha, he seemed friendly but he couldn’t quite believe that. There was something about the look in his eyes, the inflection in his voice, the way he moved that made Scott squint his eyes a bit more critically that he would have otherwise. A mask of sorts. 

“I think it would be a fine trade, Alpha Hale - a pure womb to place your children. You do not have to worry about virginity or infidelity, my brother would be only yours to keep unless you state otherwise. He has been under my watchful eye since my father passed and my father before me. I can reassure any doubts you may have.” 

Despite popular belief, Derek wasn’t some heartless bastard who wanted to watch the world burn. He was a grieving man who has known betrayal and pain longer than he knew anything else. His heart was played with by the Fates on bloody strings and Scott couldn’t blame him for that. Kate was a sore subject. Kate was a very sore subject. Theo probably knew that. 

“Has he been touched before?” Derek inquired as he took a thoughtful swig of his wine. 

“No he hasn’t, Alpha Hale. Soon, he will see his twenty-first summer having been pure. He has been prepared entirely for this moment.” 

Lies. 

“This moment?” 

Theo smiled. “For you, of course, Alpha Hale. I thought you would be satisfied knowing that you would be the first and last to take him.” 

_ Lies.  _

“I have heard the rumors of your House. You have been known to be more than once as incestuous and prolific inbreeders. How can I trust your word that your brother is pure?” 

“An inspection can be arranged if you desire.” Scott didn’t trust that smile. 

Scott didn’t trust anything about Theo the more he thought to that first encounter. Theo  _ knew _ Derek wanted to believe in a mate who was made just for him. Derek ended up not asking for one even at Isaac’s insistence. Derek was a mourning man, desperate to end his grief any way he knew how. To Scott, that was through rebuilding his pack, finding a new mate, and strengthening his relationships with his inner circle. He didn’t have the heart to not let him have all three simultaneously. 

So the Vasarys came a year later. And Theo was a straight liar. 

But that was neither here nor there. Derek will believe what he wanted. 

The Vasarys himself - Stiles as he was referred to was actually pretty great. Once Scott was able to get him to open up, his heart affectionately swelled with their chemistry. Stiles had his sense of humor and whose secretly spontaneous, curious nature complemented his own. He has since comprehended that Stiles exposes different traits to different people and can’t help the pride that shows up knowing he was the first the other felt comfortable and safe enough to show his true self. 

Watching the Vasarys’ progress in the pack was one of Scott’s lesser-known tasks Derek has assigned him. It was nice to see Stiles come into his own - it seems like not having Theo around has really done him well. 

Though, not being under Theo’s watchful fist would have done anyone well. 

So now, the group was in the tent, heated with the chanting bodies in the room. He stood next to Derek, the satisfaction of the alpha sent off in waves. On the elevated center held Stiles, halfway through eating a horse heart, the blood of it streaming down his throat. Bite after large bite, the pair’s eye contact never wavered. Ancient words rushed all of the spiritualwoman’s tongues, speaking of the unborn child. The child would be the Stallion - the greatest warrior the pack has ever seen. 

“The whole heart?” 

Westorosi men were too squeamish for him to call them men. 

“Yes, Your Grace - the entire heart. Lycans oftentimes believe that completing a horse heart during a pregnancy will ensure strong and vital offspring.” Deaton answered. 

Scott wasn’t interested in their ensuing talk. It was so  _ hot.  _ But Stiles finished. Impressive. 

Stiles heaved for a moment, red sloshy liquid escaping but caught by his hand and shoved it back into his mouth. The apprehension of another heave contributed to the stark silence in the whole. But Scott knew the Vasarys was capable and by the triumphant gaze, he was right. 

Derek was radiating satisfaction. 

“I carry the Stallion within me!” Stiles exclaimed, moving this way and that. “They will be the strongest warrior the pack has ever seen. And they will be named Rhaego!” 

The spiritualwoman gawked in awe before the noise of the room returned. “The child will be named Rhaego - the strongest warrior the pack has ever seen!” 

The chant of “Rhaego” flooded the room, excitement almost tangible. Even Jackson’s sour personality was touched by the energy, deeply shouting along with the crowd. Derek went and lifted Stiles up from the center, slowly carrying him around the room with a smirk so wide Scott wanted to call it a smile. It was nice for the Fates to be kinder to his alpha these days and prayed it will continue for the lifetime to come. 

A truly happy moment - he couldn’t help smiling himself. A new alpha for a new generation, guided by the current aids it was all just so  _ exciting. _

Except Theo. Theo was the scowl in the face of smiles. 

Another fortnight came and went. It was bliss - crops were favorable, the lycan population strived and treaties with other packs were upheld. Nights of silly conversation and tap water tasks kept him going. Derek smiled more these days, it was actually kinda strange to know he had a sense of dry humor. Everything was a slow shift but it was one Scott welcomed with grateful arms. 

One day the Vasarys wanted to accompany him on business outside of the territory. Cool and dandy really. Westorosi history and culture had been much more entertaining when Stiles told it. New pack members and indentured servants followed on the narrow path in the high grass fields and it was all fine really. Stiles wanted to stop the travel to inspect a sound he heard over yonder way and he couldn’t exactly say no so he didn’t. Stiles was gone before he could even start to follow - 

_ Why did he smell Theo’s scent? _

“STILES!”

_ Why did he hear Theo’s berating voice? _

“VASARYS!” 

A bruising grip on the other’s arm is all he could register before Jackson tackled an unsuspecting Theo’s body to the floor with ease, a clawed hand at a sensitive throat. He paused to process the situation. 

“Get off me!” 

A tightened grip cut the voice off. “What do you wish to do with him Vasarys?” came the solid voice of the guard. 

“P-Please let go of my brother, Jackson.” Stiles blinks came faster, chest even more shallow. “I do not wish my brother to be harmed.” 

Scott found his way to Stiles, giving him a quick once-over and placing a hand on his stomach. “Are you alright, Vasarys?” 

A fearful nod, eyes never breaking away from Theo. 

He placed himself in front of Stiles before ordering Jackson to let the Stilinski go. The guard casually wanted to cut something off as a reminder to never harm the mate of the alpha who carries the Stallion but at Scott’s insistence, he got up. 

“Your Grace, how may we assist you? I did not receive word that you would be gracing us with your presence on this business-” 

“Cut the pleasantries McCall.” Theo exhaled out with heated breath. “I merely wanted to speak with my daft little brother before your _ wolf _ rudely interrupted me -!” 

“Do you wish to speak with him Vasarys?” Jackson interrupted. 

A slave to a leader all will bow down to. The shackles on Stiles’ feet made him cautious and ponderous.

“Do you want to continue to journey back to the territory, Vasarys? We will move at your order.” 

Life stilled. A crack in the shackles emerged. 

“Let us continue.” 

Life began again. 

* * *

“The Stallion will be assigned male.” 

The alpha smiled. 

* * *

This is ridiculous. 

“I’m not sure I understand as to why I cannot have a conversation with Stiles in private.” 

“With all respect, Sir Dannys but we would prefer not to leave the Vasarys alone when he is with child.” 

“But I am a friend to both the Hale pack and House Stilinski.” 

“We apologize but we can not leave.” 

A muttered  _ right  _ almost cracked his composure. “Scott, no harm will come to me through Danny. He has known me longer than I could ever know him and he would be the first to defend me if problems come up.” 

Scott and Jackson stood even more straight by the wall. “Your and the Stallion’s safety is of our utmost concern.” 

“Scott-” 

“It’s okay Stiles,” Danny injected, hands up in surrender but his smile said otherwise, “it can not be helped if your guards must  _ encroach _ upon my time with you. I believe their sentiments to be true so I have no choice  _ but  _ to abide by it.” 

Danny made sure the chairs he and Stiles were sitting in faced each other perfectly, the brown table holding their cups still within reach. Slowly, he reached forward to place a gentle kiss on the Vasarys’ forehead which- 

_ “Miecyzslaw.”  _

_ Oh.  _

_ “I hope you still remember this tongue. It would be awkward if you didn’t.”  _

He couldn’t quite place this burst of happiness and trepidation. A glance over at the two told him the reluctant allowance and that was another burst of its own.  _ “I could never forget the first tongue my father taught me. No matter how many languages he learned, Old Valerian was his favorite.”  _

A small smile of pride graced Danny’s face before he sat down fully.  _ “I’m glad you still remember my signal.”  _

_ “I’m not stupid enough to forget it. What was the real reason you didn’t show to the wedding?”  _

_ “Can’t I actually be out on business?”  _

_ “Not even close. Maybe. Tell me.”  _

His sarcastic slang caused Danny to chuckle openly so he joined in. Scott looked like he wanted to say something but didn’t so he ignored it. 

_ “Technically I had business. It was just the type to last all night and continue during the day.”  _

Stiles playfully slapped his knee, fire rising from his neck to his cheeks.  _ “Gross! I don’t want to know about whatever penis you had ugh.”  _

Danny gripped Stiles hand and held it which was kinda weird so he looked up and- 

The lord’s burning eyes made him awfully sober. 

_ “Did you do it?”  _

A look of confusion.  _ “Do what?”  _

_ “Hatch the eggs. It took months of searching for them.”  _

He didn’t know what to say to that. 

Danny leaned forward.  _ “I gave those eggs to you so that you can hatch them,”  _ his voice at a careful volume,  _ “Everyone thinks that just because dragons haven’t existed for two hundred years that they all of a sudden will never exist again. Before your father died, the last thing he said to me was where to look for the eggs so that you can give birth to the greatest weapon humans could ever have - something the blood of your House can only do.”  _

Words stumbled over his tongue and he couldn’t get any of it out.  _ “What-”  _

_ “History is written by those who won. They made it seem as if the command the Stillinski blood has over dragons is nothing but myth. Do you actually think the other Houses conspiring to eliminate your House entirely was completely out of hatred? You’re smarter than that.”  _

_ “Dan-“  _

When did Scott get by his side? “Forgive my forwardness, Lord Dannys but based on the Vasarys’ elevated heart rate, I cannot help but think you that you are giving him stressful news - something he does not need as he carries the Stallion.” 

“Scott, I’m fine.” 

He shifted in uncertainty before Stiles gently grabbed his hand. “Please Scott,” he spoke softly, “let me have this. I can handle it.” 

A clenched jaw. But a heavy sigh unclenched it. “Five more minutes then we must go.”

And Stiles agreed. 

_ “A borderline slave to a leader. It’s quite impressive.”  _

That wiped the smile off of Stile’s face and he leaned closer.  _ “Don’t change the subject - you’re telling me all for what?”  _

_ “So that you can realize that Theo does not belong on that throne. You do.”  _

He couldn’t help it.  _ “That’s not it.”  _

_ “And why isn’t it?”  _ Danny hissed.  _ “Because your brother kept telling you that? You can’t honestly believe that ass.”  _

His silence was deafening even to his own ears. 

_ “Listen to me, Stiles,”  _ the tender edge on Danny’s voice made him lean closer,  _ “I know the situations Theo forced you in are less than ideal. I’m sorry for not being to do anything - if I did, Theo would’ve made sure I would never see you again. But I was able to find those eggs to give to you. You know how to hatch them. With those dragons by your side, you will be free - you’ll be able to be who you truly are -,”  _ the warmth of Danny’s hands found his own and piercing brown orbs spoke of earnest and conviction.  _ “Westeros belongs to you, Mieczyslaw Genim Stilinski. Save the Seven Kingdoms from the fate the Old Gods and the New have in store for us should the rightful Heir of the Iron Throne not raise. Promise me this.”  _

“I do apologize but we must take our leave Vasarys.” 

Stiles let go of Danny before rising up. Once he sensed the beginning of protests about to leave Danny’s mouth, he simply kissed his forehead. So the other began to lightly laugh instead and didn’t stop until the others were well out of the room. 

_ “So that’s your answer, huh?”  _

* * *

“You vile, insolent boy!” 

Stiles turned in startlement, Theo’s anger becoming more and more tangible with every lengthy stride towards him. He placed his arms around his swollen stomach. 

A fine horse skin cloth piece was thrown near his feet. 

“Do you know what this is?” 

“It is a well-made garment made of horse skin. Theo-“ 

“Do you know  _ where  _ I got it from?  _ Huh? _ ” 

Antagonized Theo meant pristine answers. “Theo-” 

A familiar hand found its way around his throat, desperate to constrict his breathing but didn’t in that moment. Theo’s snarl faintly smelled of wine. “I got that filth from one of your women - from that women hut that you like to keep. She denied me sex and gave that thing as an  _ offering.” _

He shouldn’t have sent Jackson to get water. The lump he wanted to swallow got stuck on Theo’s hand. “The feminine people in that house have denounced sex in favor of pursuing spiritual enlightenment. They were placed in my care so that I can teach them to be proper mental wellness people, the women included. I am sure she did not mean to displease you, which is why she gave you that cloth.” 

The abrupt chuckle tickled his skin but the hand around his neck was gone. Bit of a mixed signal. “Do you honestly think I care for the religion of wolves? I am the Dragon.” 

It never boded well for Stiles when he couldn’t get a read on Theo. Try again. 

“I am sure she did not mean to deny you-” 

He didn’t even see him move. “Did your daft ears not hear me?  _ I. Am. The. Dragon.”  _ Theo stepped forward again, stepping on the cloth, an inch from Stiles’ face. “The Dragon does not get denied. I will have whoever I want however I want.” 

“Theo-” 

A forceful grab on his chin. “ _ Do. Not. Interrupt. Me. _ What - do you think just because a bunch of savages like you that you can forget your  _ place?” _

_ Don’t speak.  _

The other’s cruel smile might seem sweet to others. “You know where your place is, do you not? Before I gave you up to that beast.” 

_ What?  _

“Your place is right in my bed, naked and begging for me.” 

His hand twitched. “You mean all the times you raped me?” He forced through his teeth. 

He wasn’t prepared for the cruel smile to widen instead of a slap. “You  _ liked  _ what we did. You always did.” 

Bile moved within him. 

“You  _ enjoyed  _ me taking you. I can have you even now if I wanted you. I wonder what John would say if he knew that his favorite son wanted his own brother’s cock-”

Red colored his hands and he pushed Theo. 

The silence divided the two. 

_ He put his hands on Theo. _

“You just put your hands on the Dragon.” Theo said, almost to himself. “You put your unworthy hands on the Dragon.” 

A backhanded slap sent Stiles stumbling back against the table. “You dare put your hands on the Dragon!” 

Theo’s angry hands choked him and pressed him down into the table, panic forcing him to scramble and grabbing at air. 

“No one will put his hands on the Dragon! You will feel the wrath of the Dragon!  _ Who do you think you are?!”  _

He was beside himself really. 

It was like he watched himself grab the carving knife from the table and sliced Theo’s cheek, allowing air to come back to him and his baby. Theo screamed indignantly, blood trickling down his clenched hands. 

He couldn’t help the staring, heaving and the bile threatened to leave him. He did that.

He  _ chose  _ that. 

Someone was calling for him. It sounds like Jackson. 

“My name is Stiles. I am the Vasarys to the Hale pack and I carry the alpha’s child inside me. The next time you put your hands on me will be the _ last  _ time you have hands.” 

A swiftly moved curtain. 

Ah. It was actually Isaac. 

* * *

The air was comfortably cool on his skin which made sense to him. Winter  _ was  _ coming. 

“Why are we doing this again, Stiles?” 

Scott has gotten a lot better at speaking to him casually when they were alone. 

Not entirely sure if he could say this part of the forest looked any different than the parts they walked two hours through. As Scott was marking the tree as a landmark, he took a deep breath.

_ Here.  _

The pull of the ground, the vibrations tickling his bare feet, the dry air dancing with an aroma of fire - he knew it was here. 

The soil was crumbly and soft once his fingers lightly touched it.  _ Dig,  _ a mental voice urged,  _ you know what you’ll find if you do.  _

“Stiles.” 

He stood and looked towards Scott. His handler’s eyes kinda reminded him of small dogs, puppies even. 

Grim certainly doesn’t fit those puppy eyes. “You already know what I’m gonna say, don’t you?” 

Both did. 

And both knew the answer. 

* * *

The omens were high and favored the Stallion’s birth. The drums were hearty and the dancers were splendid, the central fire heating the special wine left green grapes and oranges in their noses. Small children dashing about, their ringing laughter piercing and though the women kept catching them, he can’t say he minded their movement. 

“One day, Rhaego will be running among them.” 

He smiled at the whisper. “If he reflects any of you, he would probably be the one children are running from.” 

“And if he has any of you, he would probably fall ten times over in the course of an hour.” 

“Thirteen times, get it right.” 

These banters with Derek are getting to be nice. 

Everything was getting to be really nice. 

But it couldn’t quite stay that way, now could it?

The unmistakable sound of Theo’s drunken laughter permeated the room the moment he stumbled through. He wasn’t carrying a drink but the sword being out of the hilt made him nervous. 

Judging by the protective hand on his shoulders, Derek and Scott picked up on it. 

Maybe the music stopped because of it. 

“Oh no, don’t mind me,” he slurred, “you wolves can keep playing that noise you call music. I just came to pick up my brother and I will be on my way.” 

He was never able to please drunk Theo in the past. 

“Sir Theo, you’ve arrived just on time-” 

The drunk man waved the sword in Scott’s direction. “Don’t want to hear it, McCall. I will take my brother and he will leave. You can’t shed blood during this time right? Don’t make me do it for you.” 

_ No.  _ Standing didn’t seem to make him dizzy when he’s nervous. “Theo, won’t you come and sit down with us? We will make space for you-”

The tip of the sword was pointed at his stomach. 

The stillness actually calmed him. 

Though the tight grip on his wrist made his question whether that was a good thing. 

“I want my crown as that wolf promised. I’ve been waiting long enough. Either I get my gold or I’ll rip that thing out of you and give it to him.” 

The pressure of the tip sat him back down. 

“Hale. I’ve kept my end of the trade. It seems like you don’t intend on keeping your part. I’m taking my brother back tonight.” 

“Sir Theo-” 

“One more word out of you McCall and I will paint these grounds with your blood.” 

“Theo,” Stiles hissed, “stop it.”

A disbelieving snort. He walked around the bonfire. “Turning my own little brother against me. Hope you’re proud. As stupid as he is, he is mine to speak for. Give me my gold crown or the deal is off.”

“So you want gold, huh?” 

“Derek-” 

“No Stiles, it’s okay.” Derek stood up and-

Alpha. 

“I apologize for not keeping up my end of the deal. I will give you your gold crown. A beautiful one of the finest gold - a crown fit for a king.” 

Theo blinked for a moment or two before laughter. “Well-. That-that was all I was asking for. I-It’s nice to know that we are finally on the same page.” 

Derek smirked. “Jackson. Boyd.” 

Coming from nowhere, the two lycans apprehended the drunk with ease, Jackson deciding to break his wrist, sword clinking against the ground. Theo screamed in pain, forced to kneel before them all. 

It was quite beautiful really. 

Derek made a show of emptying the pot above the fire. He placed all the gold he was wearing inside then walked in front of Theo. 

A man who bows to no one. 

“I’ll give your crown. Made of melted gold.” 

“What are you doing?! Unhand me! Genim, tell them to unhand me!” 

The alpha lowered himself. “Why? I’m making the crown for you. Made purely of gold,” he said sagely, yanking the gold chain from the hostage’s neck. 

“What are you doing? Stop it!  _ Please  _ stop it!” 

After melting all of the gold together, Derek took the pot off the handles. 

“It’s okay if you need to look away, Stiles. You might not want to see this,” Scott whispered. 

_ No.  _

“No. I will watch.” 

“As you- as you wish, Vasarys.” 

“Genim, tell him to stop!” Theo bellowed. “Stiles! Get him to  _ stop! Please!”  _ But the alpha’s grin only extended. 

“A crown for a King.” 

Liquid gold smoothly ran down, sizzling as it connected with Theo’s flesh until the pot was empty. The screams were deafening. 

It was melodic to Stiles. 

Derek got back up and stepped away, ordering the guards to do the same after the noise stopped. 

Then Theo fell to the ground. Dead. 

_ Theo was dead.  _

No life existed in that body. His soul was gone. No breath to be had. Gone. Killed. 

Dead. 

_ Yet- _

“Stiles, talk to me,” That sounded urgent. He fainted wondered how many times Scott called him. “What are you thinking?” 

All he thought was- 

“Fire can not kill a dragon.” He said, curiously calm. “Theo did not inherit the power of the Dragon. He was not the last Dragon.” 

And if he was not- 

* * *

The eggs were just so mesmerizing. More often than not, he simply stared at them with wonder. 

His stomach wasn’t very big but Deaton said he was healthy. When others weren’t around, he fell into telling his unborn child all the tales his father told him and he was happy. 

Life was wonderful. Nothing had to change. 

“Stiles!” 

He took a moment. The box got closed. 

_ Nothing had to change.  _

* * *

“Do you have it?” 

A grim nod. He can understand that. 

Scott showed a grand heap of crushed purple flower in the beige bag before shutting it when the wind picked up. 

He tried to gather his jitters. He was doing this. To the Old Gods and the New he was actually doing this. 

“We have to do this quickly,” Scott whispered. 

Stiles agreed. His feet were much more excited then he was- 

“Wait- Stiles.” 

He looked back. That puppy dog look really would get the best of him if he wasn’t careful. 

“What, Scott?” 

The other exhaled in uncertainty, running a hand through his curly, shaggy hair. “I know it sounds really weird but I don’t think of myself as your caretaker. You’re a friend to me - my  _ best  _ friend I could even say.” 

Stiles’ heart clenched at the words. 

“I’m not saying what you’re doing is wrong,” Scott rushed, “And I already promised I wouldn’t tell anyone but we’ve made so much process...is it really bad that I don’t want you to go?”

“Scott-”

_ “You don’t have to do this,  _ y’know? I know you’re trying to get back to where you’ll belong but sometimes I can’t help but think that you belong here  _ with us.”  _

He wasn’t sure when he embraced the other but Scott’s body was surprisingly warm and not-so-surprisingly built. Scott’s arm held him tightly, it was more than enough. 

“I’ll come back. I’ll  _ always  _ come back. My home is here.” He removed himself enough to look into those sorrowful eyes. “But I must do this. I know I will regret this for the rest of my life unless I do.”

“Will you say goodbye to everyone at least?” 

“After the wolfsbane is in the air, yes.” 

That seemed to assure Scott enough. They both silently looked over the main territory from the vantage point. Various degrees of huts and tents holding sleeping lycans and his heart shed a tear for them. Select torches were lit on their long poles, sporadically lighting walking paths. The trees protected the territory the same way the ground would harm intruders. Stunning. Beautiful. He will see this land again. He will make sure of it. 

The wind picked up exponentially. It’s time. 

“You’re ready?” 

“Yeah.” Scott opened the pouch to take a fist full of the flower pieces to throw up in the air, the wind allowing it to travel in all sorts of directions. Purple stayed throughout the air until the wolf didn’t have any more to give, leaving the eggs at the bottom. 

“This shouldn’t cause any harm but still keep them all knocked out until morning.” 

“How come you aren’t affected by it?” 

“I wasn’t born a wolf. When I was younger, Derek had this uncle named Peter who bit me after going rogue. Not even the emissary before Deaton was able to change me back or even explain why the bite turned me instead of killing me considering he wasn’t even the alpha so Derek took me in. He ended up having to kill him a few years back.” 

Having to kill his last surviving blood relative. Derek has really only known pain. 

“I’ll go say bye.” 

He felt strangely like an assassin, softly entering tents to kiss foreheads. Lydia, Erica, Isaac, he even thought to kiss Boyd and Jackson. He lingered in Derek and kiss him twice on the lips, the lack of response confirming the power of the wolfsbane. 

“I’m sorry.” 

He truly was. 

Landing marking was actually quite useful when you’re trying to get somewhere quickly. They were at the clearing before Stiles registered and  _ damn  _ he was scared. The center of the wet pyre made of the surrounding tree branches and roots standing sizeably. 

“The eggs.” 

Scott rummaged through the bag, delicately putting the eggs in Stiles’ hand. They got placed in the makeshift center of the pyre with all the care Stiles could muster. He even stared a moment to make sure they didn’t move from the damp soil. 

This is it. 

“Scott, light the torch.” 

And the torch was lit. Scott passed the torch. He threw it on the center and the entire pyre went ablaze. 

It was a comforting style. 

Scott must’ve pushed them both back because he was much further back then he realized. He looked up at the sky- clouds completely covered the moon and stars. 

“Do you think this will work?”

It will.

“I always thought of you as my best friend too.” 

The heat is calling him. 

“Derek is going to  _ kill  _ us,” Scott chuckled. He sounded nervous. 

So was Stiles. Because the fire was calling. 

And Stiles laughed anyway. “Yeah, he will. Bring us back to life to kill us again.” 

Laughing when you’re scared is natural after all. 

But he knew what he must do.

“I’m going.” 

He only took two steps before a desperate hand enclosed his wrist. 

Scott took a moment. A twisted jaw clenched then released. “I’ll see you later, Stiles.” The smile was forced but the borderline wet emotion was not. 

“I’ll see you when I get back.” 

And his wrist was free. 

The shackles on his feet cracked and fell. He ran out of them. 

He thought the fire would hurt more. It was only friendly lickings. He crawled into the center space, pressing his knees against his chest. 

Somewhere, some parts of the pyre went breaking apart and that didn’t matter. Burning alive and it didn’t matter. 

Dragons were taken from the sky. 

“Here, there be Dragons.” Stiles resoluted. 

Dragons will be born again with him. 

_ Him.  _

_ “Come alive.” _

It will all come alive.  _ He  _ will be alive. And he will live. Live. 

_ Live.  _

* * *

Smoke penetrating his nostrils gave him consciousness. Moving ached. The ground was pliant again. 

“Stiles!” 

Scott. 

The pyre was ashes and he was in the center, quite the way down from where he saw Scott. 

A slow unravel. The eggs were gone. He was stark naked with streaks of dirt. 

If he felt anything towards that Scott didn’t show it, just offered a way out which he took. 

Derek, Lydia, Erica, Jackson, Isaac, and Boyd stood in the distance. The dawn colored the clouds a deep red. 

“What did you tell them?” he whispered to Scott. His voice actually couldn’t go above the whisper. 

“That you did what you had to do. By the time the pack woke up, it was too late. I wasn’t sure whether you would make it through. At one point, I passed out. Guess I wasn’t immune after all.” He stepped back to gain the whole of Stiles. “Thank God you’re alive.” 

_ “STILES!-” “-VASARYS!-” _

The rest were traveling forward. Scott waved forgiveness towards them. A high-pitched screech stopped all movement. 

Something was tickling his ankle trying to crawl up his legs. It screeched again and again. Actually no- there were three different screeches intermingling with one another, crawling and crawling. One was satisfied with at his ankle while two made it to his shoulders.

Everyone was frozen in time. They all knew. 

“Oh my god.” 

_ Dragons.  _

Dragons are alive again. 

“They can’t be real,” Isaac asserted. 

As if in response, the baby dragons screeched at the wolves before the two on his shoulder nuzzled his neck. 

He did it.  _ He did it.  _

He didn’t move. His father’s spirit was here. 

“Stiles-” 

A protective screech. A few hours out and they protect their mother. 

He was the Unburnt. Breaker of Chains. 

Mother of Dragons. 

The creatures wouldn’t stop screeching. Even when the wolves stepped back, the screeching continued. 

Until a much deeper screech answered back. 

An energy caused the air to breeze itself in a chill, closer and closer and- 

A large dragon’s landing shook the ground. 

The babies went. Stiles ran soon after through the protest. 

He wasn’t thinking when he stopped close enough and reached a hand out. 

It got sniffed before the dragon bowed its’ head. 

He took the permission. His father was in this dragon. Danny was true. 

John.  _ John.  _

Closing his teary eyes, he visualized the bonds he had with all four dragons, the one with John’s energy being the most tangible. He offered his gratitude. 

It offered him a ride through the sky. 

A wing guided him to climb the creature’s back. 

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!- STILES!” 

A feracious yell silenced unwanted sounds. 

He patted the dragon twice. And he was in the air. 

Gradually, everything got smaller. Unimportant. He was above it all. He was above the clouds. The skyline was breathtaking. 

He made this happen. Out of the chains, out of the cage, out of anyone’s order. 

He was completely and utterly free. 

He chose this. 

_ Where are we going,  _ he inquired. 

_ Westeros,  _ it said. 

_ “Westeros belongs to you, Mieczyslaw Genim Stilinski. Save the Seven Kingdoms from the fate the Old Gods and the New have in store for us should the rightful Heir of the Iron Throne not raise.”  _

He smirked. 

_ Westeros is mine.  _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I hoped you enjoyed it! Please tell me what you think in the comments below - I will read and reply to all of them. If you want to know what's coming next, check out my profile and you'll be the title and fandom it comes from. Want to know when it will come out? Subscribe to stay updated! There will not be such a lengthy hiatus as before. I'm back in business! 'Till next time! 
> 
> -MS Lawliet


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